


One-Shots//IT ships

by SoulPlatter



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bad Parents Sharon Denbrough & Zack Denbrough, Camping, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Good Parents Maggie & Wentworth Tozier, Kissing, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Sad Bill Denbrough, Stanley Uris-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-22 17:03:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21305516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulPlatter/pseuds/SoulPlatter
Summary: Drabbles/One-Shots based on prompts I receive on Tumblr or anywhere else!Feel free to attack me or cry with me on Tumblr afterwards! or just request something!url is seraphanlon
Relationships: Bill Denbrough & Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough/Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	1. Stanlonbrough

This_ was a terrible idea_, Stan thinks as he trudges forward with a too-heavy bag of camping equipment. Mike and Bill had both told him that most of the items weren't necessary, that they had rented out a cabin for the weekend. He insisted to his boyfriends that anything could happen and how '_better to have it and not need it, than need it and not have it._' Bill had made a comment about how there was no possible situation that would require as much as Stan had packed, and Mike had told him that he thought it was endearing that Stan was always prepared for anything.

  
The trip here hadn't been awful, and being able to stretch his legs after five hours felt amazing. The view was stunning, their cabin overlooked the vast stretches of forest below. It was a comfortable temperature and it even smelled good, like pine and autumn leaves rather than stale dirt. He didn't have much of a reason to complain, but he was bitter. Bitter because he knew he'd be miserable, and miserable solely because of the sheer amount of insects that buzzed and crawled around the outdoors, and maybe a some of it was because he'd been proven wrong.

  
Bill hangs back as Mike heads to grab the key to the cabin, nudging Stan gently.  
"Is it as bad as you'd thought it would be?" He asks. Normally Stan would be irritated by such a question sounding too much like teasing, but he knows Bill is genuinely concerned.  
"There are too many bugs," he comments, trying to release the tension in his shoulders that are still hiked up too far to be comfortable. "But… it's nice. We're here to relax so I'm going to try to do that."  
Mike rounds the porch of the cabin, waving the keys with a wide grin. Bill and Stan both return the smile with fond expressions, moving forward with their luggage.

  
"If a spider even comes near me while we're here, I'll drive myself back to Florida and leave you guys stranded in this cabin," Stan says as they enter the home. It's gorgeous. Hardwood floors, a stone fireplace, a small kitchen. He can see some of the loft from where he stands just in front of the entryway, admiring the interior. He hates to admit that he'd made such a fuss over coming because it means that his boyfriends were right when they said he'd like it. He doesn't want to inflate their egos, but then he meets Mike's eyes and he caves.

  
"It's beautiful, Mikey," he murmurs, moving forward to kiss him with both arms wound around the back of his neck. Mike laughs against his lips and then kisses both of his cheeks before leans away a bit, both of them staring at one another. They're all so lovestruck by each other that it's almost sickly sweet.

  
"I knew you'd like it," he responds as he loosens his arms from around Stan, grabbing his bags again.

  
"Don't worry about spiders, I bought peppermint oil just for you. It's supposed to keep them away," Bill adds as he re-enters the main area from where he'd been exploring the cozy kitchen. "Let's go check out the loft?"

  
Stan rolls his eyes but he can't force away the smile. He's lucky; they all are, and he's grateful to be able to spend time with them like this.

  
"I love you, you know," he mutters as he follows Mike and Bill up the narrow staircase to inspect the sleeping area. Mike's already sprawled out across the comforter before he can protest, but he can't even bring himself to complain about it. He looks so content and happy that he doesn't dare ruin it, because he knows that Mike would see right through it. He can't deny that he complained for no reason, and he carefully sits down, situating himself to rest his head against Mike's chest. His heartbeat is strong and steady beneath his ear, comforting. Bill lays his own head on Stan's abdomen, smiling up at both of his partners.

  
"We love you too, Stan," Mike says gently, thumbing over his jaw with an awed twinkle in his soft brown eyes. Stan is sure his expression matches, overwhelmingly _in love_. Mike is gorgeous, all dazzling smiles and soft-yet-sharp features, and a smooth, honeylike voice to match.

  
"We know," Bill murmurs, his expression of admiration for both boys never wavering a bit. "We love you too. If it wasn't obvious."

  
_This_, Stan knows, _is what true happiness is._


	2. Bichie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The losers are camping. Richie and Bill kiss, Bill cries a little bit and then he doesn't. Slight hurt, mostly me projecting my insecurities onto the characters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't tag your fic Bichie or Bill/Richie if it's not Bichie. Thanks.

He can't stand the silence. It's not quiet, per se: the water is moving beneath the dock, there are crickets and tree-frogs chirping, his heart is beating so hard that he can hear it. It's too loud though, the fact that they're not speaking.

"Bill?" He speaks softly, breaking the unbearable silence. Bill lifts his head from where he's staring at the lights reflecting off of the water, humming a soft acknowledgment with his brows raised a little.

Richie doesn't hesitate then. He can't, he'd pussy out if he waited, and he'd probably run off without saying a word and leave Bill behind, confused and hurt. He moves forward, quicker than he'd anticipated, and his hands come up to touch. His right hand places itself on the outside of his cheek, cupping his jaw, and he closes his left hand around Bill's shoulder. Their lips are pressed together, fitting surprisingly well for taking Bill so off guard. Bill's reciprocating- only the slightest bit, not really doing much more than pursing his lips. He's tense, barely moving. Richie prays that he doesn't get shoved off, tilting his head forward minutely, and then Bill's hand reaches up to his arm. It's a barely-there thing, hesitant and cautious, but he's leaning in and relaxing the tiniest bit.

"Ow," he whispers against Richie's mouth, voice lacking any volume or emotion. "Rich, y-your glasses--"

He moves back and readjust the frames, already crooked on his face from where they'd been knocked against Bill's nose. He's ready to pretend this never happened, the best he can anyway.

"Sorry, Big Bill, don't know what came over me," His voice sounds foreign to his own ears, absently brushing hair from his forehead as he prepares to stand up. "Guess I couldn't help myself, seeing you looking so pretty in the moonlight like--"

Bill grabs the front of his shirt in his fist, yanking him forward with a desperate sort of ferocity. He's blinded in a second, protesting indignantly as his glasses are slid from his face.

"Shut  _ up _ ," Bill mutters breathlessly, folding the arm of the frames over the collar of Richie's shirt before shoving him back just enough so that he can straddle him without being pushed into the water beneath them. "You can't just  _ k-kuh-kiss _ muh-me and then  _ apologise _ for it. You can't do that to me!"

His voice is tight, Richie realizes belatedly with great horror, because he's going to  _ cry _ . His hands settle themselves on Bill's hips for a moment before he reaches up to cup his face, gentler than before. His thumbs rub gently over his cheeks, hot and sticky with tears, and he shakes his head.

"I'm not sorry," he murmurs, tugging Bill's head downward to close the slight distance, noses bumping as he presses their faces together. Their lips don't meet again, not yet, even with as badly as he wants to kiss him. "I'm not sorry. I've wanted to do that for so long, God-- Bill, you have no idea how much I've wanted that. You've gotta believe me."

"Don't apologize for it," Bill murmurs again, voice shaky. "Okay? If you m-muh-mean it, don't apologize. Please, Rich. Am I… I'm not bad, you're n-not-- it's not  _ buh-bad _ to love me, right? I'm a-allowed to have that. People can love me, right?"

"Of course, Billy. Fuck, of  _ course _ you're allowed to have that. I love you. I  _ love _ you, okay? I love you so fucking much and I don't care who knows," he says almost desperately, wanting nothing more than to prove to Bill that he's being sincere. "I'll go into that cabin right now and kiss you in front of them. I'll tell them I love you and that I don't care if anyone doesn't like it. You're loved, you have to believe that."

"Okay," Bill replies shakily, nodding his head weakly, lips brushing Richie's again. There are tears on his face and he can't tell if they're Bill's or his own. "I love you, Richie."

"I love you," Richie repeats back, moving his head so that their lips meet again. Gentler this time, but no less meaningful. He's not sure how long they stay like that, taking brief breaks to catch their breath with their foreheads pressed together and then going back in, but they eventually part fully. "I mean it, Bill. I'll tell them right now if you want me to."

Bill laughs softly, dropping his head downward to rest on Richie's shoulder, and they both breathe together like that for a few minutes. Richie's mouth presses to his clothed shoulder and he closes his eyes, a content smile on his face.

"We'll tell them," Bill speaks up after a moment. "Not now, but we will."

That sounds good to Richie. He doesn't care when they know about this, whatever  _ this _ is, even as hard as it will be to go back to that cabin and keep quiet about this development. He's happy with it for now, even if nobody knows. They will, Bill said, and he believes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments sustain me. Thank you for reading!


	3. hanbrough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> roughly 600 words here! i just love mike hanlon and so does bill

It's different now. He's not sure what changed, when it happened. He's not even entirely certain what exactly changed between them, he just knows that this feels… off.

Maybe _off_ isn't the best way to put it. It's good, there's a wild fluttering in his abdomen and his cheeks are dusted with pink. Mike's eyes move slowly and deliberately across his body as if taking in every detail. He doesn't dare direct his own gaze anywhere but Mike's wandering eyes. The tip of his tongue runs across his own lower lip as he focuses his vision on the deep brown of his irises. His lashes flutter as he lifts his head upward, the corners of his lips lifting into a soft, fond smile. Bill feels heat rush to the tips of his ears at the expression he bears, something so private and gentle in that smile of his.

"I don't tell you enough," Mike starts, his voice smooth and soft and so, so sweet. Bill thinks he'd melt if he could, and hangs onto every word from his mouth. "You're beautiful, Bill; truly."

"Mikey," he murmurs, heart starting to hammer in his ribcage even harder than before. A fluttering anxiety within his chest, giddy and confused and  _ hopeful _ . "You are too. I muh-mean it."

He lifts a hand up to his face, cupping his jaw with a thumb ghosting over his cheekbone.

_ 'Your smile is as bright as the sun,'  _ he wants to say, but the words don't come out. He doesn't want to be reading too far into this, if there's still the chance that Mike's just being friendly. His hands are steadfast on Bill's hips, smile growing the slightest bit wider. His gaze flickers briefly to Bill's lips as he pulls the lower one to worry it between his teeth, committing every detail of his face to memory. The rings in his eyes; a range of dark browns and darker browns, the short, curled lashes framing them. His nose, perfectly fit for the rest of his features. 

"Stunning," he whispers, fingertips brushing over the curve of his jaw as he curls them inward a bit, lifting Mike's head upward somewhat. His lips have settled into something more serious now, not quite a frown but not a smile either. His brows are knitted together the slightest bit, as if he's trying to comprehend something he can't quite manage to grasp. "Can I… Can I ki-kiss you?"

He doesn't think he actually managed to ask. He barely hears his own voice, tentative and almost shaky. The change in Mike's expression lets him know that he did. Warm hands come up to cup his cheeks, slightly calloused around the heels, and he's pulled down just enough so that his forehead is resting against the other boys. His vision goes unfocused as he tries to meet his eyes in such close proximity and he has to close them as pain starts between his brows, but his head is very gently tilted to the right. Their lips barely brush together at first, but his breath catches in his throat nonetheless. It's less hesitant after that but still slow and tender. He feels himself leaning into the kiss, left hand coming up to rest against the side of his neck.

"Mikey," he repeats. His voice is barely a whisper, nose bumping Mike's own.

"I've been wanting to do that," Mike replies with a soft huff of laughter, foreheads resting together yet again. Bill can't help but laugh also, a sort of breathless and winded thing. Disbelief.

"You sh-should have," he murmurs after a moment, a fond grin spreading across his face. "Better n-now than never, I guess?"

"Definitely."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> where can i get a boyfriend as soft as mike 🥺


	4. Bichie + alone at the quarry

_ Before _ the whole terrifying near-death experience and extremely dangerous encounter with IT, the only reason Richie had ever been afraid to wander the streets of Derry alone was because of Henry Bowers. As if one guy on his own wasn't bad enough, he had three others tailing him at any given time and each of them were as angry and dense as the last. 

After nearly dying at the hands of a clown they didn't seem nearly as scary, especially without Henry to lead them around. That meant now all the Losers only had to be on the lookout for things  _ other _ than a trio of bullies- eyes on the sewer grates, the gaping mouths of the storm drains, dimly-lit streets and anything or anyone that looked like they might want to harm them. Here, it seemed like that was everyone. The inhabitants of Derry either wanted everyone else dead or they didn't care enough to stop someone from making sure they ended up like the others.

Richie held his breath and picked up the pace as an overhead streetlamp flickered and buzzed. He was almost certain that the shadows jumping around in front of him had taken on a human shape. That thought in mind, he squared his shoulders and broke into a brisk walk until he was nearly jogging.

_ 'I shouldn't be out right now,' _ he told himself as if it was something he wasn't already aware of.  _ 'I could get killed.' _

That doesn't deter him, doesn't get him to turn tail and run back home. His parents are both asleep still, he'd made sure of it and had been as quiet as possible when sneaking out the back door. He loved them and he knew the house was safe, but on nights where he woke up after particularly awful nightmares-  _ vivid images of his friends being ripped to shreds by unimaginable evil, his hands covered in their blood- _ the walls of the home felt suffocating. Soon enough he found that he'd walked himself all the way to the Quarry. He squinted at the railing keeping him away from the edge of the cliff, words barely visible in the pale moonlight. He shrugged because it wasn't as if he'd ever heeded those warnings before, and eased himself over the metal bars. Walking carefully towards the edge overlooking the water, he picked at the paint chips that had stuck to his clammy palms. His heart had started hammering in his chest again and only began to race faster as he froze. 

Up ahead, barely illuminated by the light, was a figure sat on the cliff. Curled in on themselves, head bowed downward a little…

"Bill?"

His own voice sounded foreign to his ears. The figure startled a bit but kept still otherwise. Richie felt his stomach twist with anxiety as he crept forward, praying that his guess had been right. As he moved in towards the shadowy outline of a person, he became less and less certain it was him. Bill would've replied, right? He should turn back. He should turn back because he's  _ alone _ with a  _ stranger _ and nobody would be around to see if he got strangled and hidden under a pile of dead leaves-

"What are you d-duh-doing here, Richie?"

He exhaled a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Relieved, he moved closer with more confidence than before. Neither of them mentioned the wavering of Bill's voice, even as he sat himself down next to his friend, close enough that he was practically sat on top of him. He fumbled in the dark until he reached Bill's hand and then linked their pinkies. Neither of them spoke for a long while. It was quiet aside from a breeze running through the trees and Bill's shuddering breaths.

"Nightmares.  _ Again _ ," Richie finally spoke up. The finger wound around his own tightened and he gave a reassuring squeeze in return. "I just had to clear my head, you know how it is. Always the same old thing, uh… y'know."

He gestured vaguely with his free hand and pressed his shoulder against Bill's. They didn't usually talk about it. If it had to be talked about, there was never any detail given. Everyone knew well enough, it never had to be said aloud. They just comforted one another and pretended things would be okay. They would be eventually.  _ They had to be _ .

"Yeah," Bill replied in a tight voice. Richie released his hand and wriggled even closer to him until their sides were fully pressed together. He threw his right arm around his shoulders and pulled him aside until his head was rested against his shoulder. Richie laid his head against Bill's and ignored the way the arm of his glasses were digging into his temple. "It's so quh-quiet there. Sometimes I w-wuh-wake up and for a second I'm not sure where I am. It doesn't feel the suh-same anymore. I don't feel s-suh-s--"

He cut himself off with a soft sound of frustration and Richie's hand closed tightly around his shoulder. They both know what he was trying to say. Richie feels it too. The Denbrough home is different now, it had been since Georgie first disappeared.  _ Not safe. _ Richie wishes Bill would stop trying to get his parents to come around, as selfish as that is. He knows they won't, even if he wouldn't ever tell his friend that.

"We should go back soon," Richie mumbled, face turned a little so his voice was muffled by Bill's hair. "My dad's gonna wake up to piss and wonder where the hell I am. I think I left my bedroom door open, so..."

"Okay."

Bill's voice sounded defeated. Richie didn't say anything more, but he pulled Bill off of the ground with him and grabbed ahold of his hand before he could ask questions.

"Your parents won't mind if you stay over tonight, right?"

He already knew the answer, he'd only asked because Bill would appreciate it. He didn't wait for a reply though, they were already climbing back over the metal bars and making their way to Richie's house. The walk back was quiet again bur Richie felt much better having Bill close. Each time they passed under a street lamp Richie would steal a glance at him and grin fondly, because even as exhausted as he looked, there was still a faint smile on his lips. Bill was beautiful no matter what.

They paused on the porch and Richie pulled him into a hug and neither of them spoke for a few long minutes, not even after they pulled away and Richie moved back in to press his mouth to Bill's, gentle and quick.

They didn't talk about it right then, but they both fell asleep tangled in each other's arms and the nightmares didn't bother them again for the rest of the night. Things would get better eventually, and having Bill close gave him the confidence he needed to believe that.


End file.
